Chapter 42
Syneca
When the flame on a candle bends toward you, the dead are leaning in to listen. When it bends away, they’ve heard enough, and you should probably stop talking.
Corvus, Silas, and Riot took to the sky in turns, their shapes dark against the fading light. Searching. Hunting for any sign of Lucy in a landscape that swallowed people whole.
The rest of us were supposed to take turns sleeping. None of us did.
I sat at the cave entrance, staring out at the Erelith burning perpetually on the horizon like the creator had drawn a line and said: this far, no farther.
It should have been awe-inspiring. But there was nothing between here and there except an expanse of flat land, cliffs and then ocean. The Sable Deep, waving in the distance.
What if I was wrong, and Lucy was gone for nothing?
Calder settled beside me, Eda Mire’s map in hand.
He spread it across our laps, using his knuckles to measure the distance between points.
“We’re here, roughly. Getting to Sable Deep is half a day’s flight.
” His finger traced over the ocean’s name, then moved to the empty space beyond.
“Once we cross it, there’s likely an island out there we just can’t see yet.
The curvature of the world, distance, whatever. But it’s there.”
His voice was steady, but my nerves were not.
“You would have argued that point with yourself two days ago,” I said.
He stared out over the land before us. “The Oracle hasn’t turned back yet. There’s something out there.”
“You’re using logic to avoid feelings.”
“It’s worked for me so far.” But his hand shook slightly as he refolded the map. “She was just starting to open up. Actually talk about herself instead of just... existing in whatever role people needed her to fill.”
“I know.”
“And now she’s just gone. No body. No trail. Nothing.”
I leaned against his shoulder, offering the only comfort I knew how. “We’ll find her.”
He looked at me with eyes that had seen too much loss already. “Will we? Or are we just telling ourselves that so we can keep moving forward?”
The sun set in the cloudless sky, reflecting a vibrant painting of misery across the black ocean in the distance.
No one slept. With so little room within, Wickett was forced to pace outside the cave, tracking the seconds with each footstep. Corvus had returned, but Silas and Riot still searched, checking back in every so often, just in case Lucy returned on her own.
“We give her one more night,” Wickett said finally. “One more chance to make it back. We can’t see shit out there at night over the ocean anyway.”
No one argued.
Riot returned extremely late, exhausted and empty-handed. Devastated. He lay outside, blocking most of the entrance with his massive form. Nothing was getting past him, not monsters, not threats, nothing that wasn’t Lucette Varrow, and I was confident he hadn’t slept a wink.
I lay awake in the darkness, listening to the sounds of people pretending to sleep, counting the hours until dawn brought decisions none of us wanted to make.
Morning came too quickly and not fast enough.
Silas returned with the sun, landing with a thud that said he’d found nothing worth reporting. His eyes met mine, and I could see the apology buried within them.
“Maybe we should keep looking a little longer,” Pip said into the heavy silence. “Split up. Cover more ground. She could be hurt, could need help—”
“I agree,” Riot said, perking up. “I could cover more ground. Go farther out. Into the mountains. I know she’s out there.”
Wickett slid one of his blades into the sheath on his back. “If we delay anymore, we’ll never kill the Phoenix in time. And then we’ll all be dead. Including Lucy, if she’s still alive.”
I couldn’t help but notice he’d used the word kill and not hunt.
No one wanted to hear words like that, but the hunter was never guarded with his thoughts once he’d made up his mind about something. He’d always aimed to kill her, but only because he knew no better.
An idea took root as my gaze slid to Aureth.
There had been no logical reason for me to present this argument before, not without everyone figuring out I’d lied and always meant to help Vitoria escape.
But now... “We need to stop the countdown so we can actually search for Lucy properly without a death sentence hanging over us. Can it be done, Aureth?”
The Oracle turned toward me, lips flattened. For whatever reason, it seemed like she didn’t want to discuss this with the Venatori. “You cannot break a blood oath without a drop of the target’s blood willingly given, or death.”
The hope died.
“Then we press on,” Wickett said, and I could hear the relief.
He desperately wanted to kill the Phoenix. If only he knew he’d been kissing her a day ago.
He stepped away. “We complete the mission. And as soon as it’s done, as soon as the oath releases us, we come back to find Lucette. With all the time in the world to search properly.”
I didn’t push. Didn’t argue. Because as much as I hated it, Wickett was right. If we didn’t find Vitoria, if we didn’t end this in time, Lucy would die anyway. We all would.
At least this way, there was a chance.
“We have to leave her a message,” Pip said quietly, flying to the cave entrance. She pulled parchment and a stub of charcoal from her pack. The pack the Oracle prepared because she’d known she was going to need it. My eyes slid to the fury-born, narrowing.
“She’s a messenger,” Aureth said, taking my side. “Parchment seemed appropriate.”
Pip spread out her paper. Her tiny hand shaking as she wrote:
Lucy - We will come back for you. Wait for us. Please. - Pip
PS. Calder stole your cheese. He didn’t want you to know, but I saw him do it. In case that’s why you didn’t come back.
She zipped back into the cave, weighing her note down with stones, protecting it from wind, and making sure it would be visible if Lucy returned. When she returned, her eyes were rimmed red.
We mounted in silence. Calder helped the Oracle onto Riot’s back. Wickett checked his weapons. I climbed onto Silas, feeling the weight of leaving settling over us like a blanket.
“She’s smart,” Calder said, though I wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. “If anyone can survive out here alone, it’s Lucy.”
“She’s smart,” I agreed, because what else could I say?
With heavy hearts and heavier silence, we took to the sky.
The Sable Deep raged beneath us, black water churning with whitecaps that looked like teeth, violent enough I was grateful we were flying instead of sailing on a lycan ship. Nothing lived down there that wanted to be found. Nothing survived that didn’t have nightmares to offer in return.
Cutting across the horizon, as far as the eye could see, the purple Erelith burned.
My stomach plunged as we raced toward the towering wall of flame, away from the known world toward whatever lay beyond.
The eternal flame circled our world like a fence line, a boundary none could cross, reaching from sea to sky.
No one could venture beyond the fire, and based on our speed and Riot’s determination, we were moments from flying into it.
“Stop. Stop!” I screamed as we flew closer to certain death, but no one could hear me over the roar of wind and wings and violent ocean.
This was madness.
This was suicide.
This was... a sliver of land peeked from the chaos. An island, just as Calder had suspected. A tiny crescent surrounded by raging sea, but the Erelith cut across it. There was enough room to land on the dark sandy beach, but no way to continue on to where the locator spell had marked the map.
The wall of purple fire was deadly. Untouchable. And a huge fucking problem.
Riot landed in the ocean, swimming to the tiny shoreline as Si and I hit the beach. I held my breath, staring into the dark waters, waiting until everyone had walked down his massive head and stepped onto the beach, dry as bone. Riot shifted, water pouring from him as he joined us.
Everyone blocked the heat with their arms, squinting up at the endless wall of eternal flame.
I felt nothing, not a lick of warmth beyond my own body heat.
But I supposed that made sense. When the Furies first came to Fuerlis in their rage, their anger and desperate need for escape, they birthed magic unto this world and from that same violent creation, the first Phoenix rose from the flames.
The Erelith and I were made of the same fire, born from the same ancient power. Of course it wouldn’t burn me.
“Don’t touch it,” Pip said nervously from Calder’s shoulder. “It’s instant death to all but the Phoenix. Even the sister Furies can’t survive it.”
I drew a long breath. “So we flew all this way to stand on a beach and admire the fire.”
“There has to be a way through.” Wickett was already moving along the flame’s edge, searching for something that might indicate passage.
The Oracle stood very still, facing the Erelith. Corvus twitched on her shoulder, unusually quiet. Like they were both waiting for something.
Then, the fire parted.
Cut from water flowing through flame to create a doorway where none had existed.
A woman stepped through.
She had dark skin and was robed in black fabric.
Runes covered its edges: protection, warding—things I both recognized and had never seen.
Stacks of dark jewelry adorned her wrists and neck; each piece engraved with symbols that hummed with power.
Her face was sharp; her green eyes sharper.
“This is the edge of the world. Go back to wherever you’ve come from. There’s nothing for you here.”
The Oracle remained notably quiet. No cryptic warnings. No prophetic guidance. Just silence.
Fine, I’d do this myself.
I stepped forward. “We seek Dyssara.”
The woman’s laugh was sharp and humorless. “You seek a fairytale. A story mothers tell children about a city that doesn’t exist.”